“If you’re looking for a bodyguard, I’ll put one of my men on it…”

“I want you, Nate. What’s your rate these days?”

“Twenty-five a day, unless you insist on the boss himself, in which case it’s thirty-five. And even if you do, I still have to run the office; I can’t be on her all the time. I’d talk to the girl, spend the first day with her, then put an op on it. I don’t work just one job at a time, you know-we have sixty-some clients, at the moment.”

“Make it hundred a day, with a week’s retainer.”

That raised my eyebrows and lowered my standards. “What do you expect to accomplish? What do you expect me to accomplish?”

He shrugged elaborately. “I think the threats are so much hot air. Those dagoes can’t afford to fuck with Jim Ragen. They’re just makin’ noise.”

“So do guns.”

He smirked humorlessly and waved that off as well. “We go to court next week. That’ll be the end of it.”

“You didn’t answer me, Jim. What do you want from me, exactly?”

“Be at her side. Make her feel safe. Make her safe.”

“Have you talked to her about this?”

“Yes. She insists she’s not afraid, though I can tell she is…though she resisted the notion of protection, at first. But, who can predict a woman; headstrong lass that she is, she up and turned around and said she’d go along with it.”

“Why, do you think?”

“She said she’d heard of you. You’ve a certain notoriety, after all.”

I’d made the papers a few times. Most of the occasions had been bad for my health but good for business.

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“Margaret.”

“Ragen?”

“Hogan. She’s my wife’s little sister’s girl. Pretty little lass. You should pay me, for the pleasure.” He raised a stern finger, the tiny eyes getting tinier. “Which isn’t to give you no ideas, lad. Don’t ye lay a hand on ’er, now.”